On those days after breakfast I am handcuffed and shacked, frisked by some weirdo in his 40s and put in an escort van where I am handcuffed to the sea... as well as the inmate next to me. The last time I went to court I was sentenced to 34 months in prison. I think I am going to get on the bus to go there soon.It's four thirty in the mourning when I hear a guard pounding on the cell door and I am told to get my stuff together, I put it all in a bag and I am told to put my hands into the food tray. "My God, the size of the those melons!" said Matthew as hepulled me towards him, and i lowered my breasts to his face and gaspedas he took my right breast in his mouth, his teeth gently tugging mysuper sensitive nipple. His rough hands ran over my body sending wavesof pleasure through me.We kissed hard and passionately as he slid his hand up my thigh undermy skirt, and searched out the soft folds of my soaking wet pussy. Ashis fingers traced my clit, it felt like small electrical jolts. We carried on talking, laughing and joking, she changes her position slightly, I’m sure I can see a wet patch on her panties. I try again but this time put my hand high up, touching the hem of her skirt. She tries to push my hand away again but this time I hold it firm. I’m sure she wants to be fucked, I again take a quick glance between her legs, there is definitely a darker patch on her panties. I look into her eyes, I can see she wants me, I throw caution to the wind hoping it won’t. “I miss my mom...”Bingo!Carrie immediately shifted from inquisitor to supporter. “Oh, Tommy, I’m, so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad, thinking about your family. Please forgive me.”She had no way of knowing that we were thinking of two entirely different mothers, and that was for the best. We talked about ... well ... not much. Then again, we talked about everything, just not much of anything about everything, We just talked and Carrie seemed to be willing to talk for the rest of the year..